I'll Wait For You
by JacquelineJoyeuse
Summary: Tessa attends a funeral.


She comes to his funeral as herself.

Though she may be risking exposure, Tessa is not wearing someone else's skin today. Even though it sounds impossible, she knows somehow that Will is going be there, and she wants to make sure that he knows who she is. She wants him to see her, one last time.

Clouds roll across the darkened sky, and for once the dreary weather does not bother her. It seems fitting for his funeral; to her, there shall never really be a sunny day again.

The Institute still looks the same as always- beautiful and towering. Taking a deep breath, she gets out of her parked roadster and enters the back gate to the cemetery, her white lace dress fluttering against her knees in the harsh October wind. She makes her way over to the group of gathered Shadowhunters in white, standing in the back- for at this funeral she prefers to be an unnoticed observer.

'_You can do this,' _she thinks. _'You knew this had to happen, someday.'_

She can see his wife, Mrs. Herondale, standing stoically surrounded by her children towards the front of the group. Tessa never bothered to learn her name. Putting a name to the face of the woman who had everything Tessa could never have- a family, mortality, Will himself- was unbearable. She couldn't afford to think of her as a person. No, it was much easier to hate her, or at least muster up some sort of indifference. Anything was better than the constant emptiness she endured for the past 70 years.

Tessa envies the wrinkles on his wife's once beautiful face, the gray hair that has been harshly twisted up in a bun. She envies the woman's ability to mourn her husband freely, because while she can grieve and move on, Tessa will mourn the woman's husband for eternity, her sorrow a dirty secret, swept underneath the rug. Tessa Gray will never move on.

She envies the loving support she has from her children–_their _children-, as they hold their mother's shriveled hands and stare impassively straight ahead. She immediately recognizes their father in both of them- the boy and the girl. The way their black hair ruffles in the wind, the striking blue of their eyes…Tessa begins to wonder precisely how long she'll be able to keep herself together..how long it will be until the fissures begin to betray the carefully blank mask she's managed to hold on to.

Then, she sees his grandson, and it's all she can do to stay standing upright. The teenager is a spitting image of Will, and for a second, she foolishly begins to hope that it really _is_ Will, and that she's mistaken, this isn't his funeral, it's only some kind of subconscious joke; however, pure misery is reflected on the young man's features, and very much unlike Will, he is doing nothing to hide it. This brings her back to her bleak reality- Will is truly gone, and he is never coming back. Tessa shuts her eyes against the flood of tears threatening to spill over, wishing for death.

After the Nephilim ceremony is finished, a strangely familiar old man walks over next to the grave, so that he's facing the group. Taking out a piece of paper from his breast pocket, he unfolds it and begins to read.

"William Herondale was a great man, a brave shadowhunter. His life was a full, happy one, and that's the most our kind can ever ask for. I will miss you, friend." His shaky hands lay down a white rose on top of the grave. Having said his peace, he starts for his car.

More people are getting up to pay their respects, so no one notices Tessa's gasp of surprise when the old man walks by her.

"Gabriel?" the name slips out of Tessa's mouth before she can stop it. His kind, rheumy green eyes squint at her in confusion. No recollection of her dawns on him, though, for his memory is has already begun to fade.

"Yes?"

Seeing that he doesn't remember her, she stammers, "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that… I liked your speech." She silently berates herself for almost unveiling her true identity.

"I just spoke from the heart, dear. That's all he would've wanted." He nods to her, a puzzled expression on his face, as if he recalls seeing her somewhere, but can't place her face or her name.

Finally, he turns to leave. Watching him go, Tessa ponders how much can change in a lifetime. She bitterly wonders if perhaps the woman who married Will was the Lightwood girl he and Gabriel fought about ages ago. It is then that her thoughts are interrupted by an achingly familiar voice.

"So, how did you know my grandfather?"

She turns, and there he is. _Will._ No, after a second glance, she realizes it is only Will's grandson -the one she mistook for Will before- trying to figure her out. Ironically, she remembers how Will used to look at her the same way all those years ago. Her heart throbs when she notices he is about the same age as his grandfather was when they met.

She glances away, towards the funeral goers climbing into their cars, ready to depart. "It's a long story," comes her curt reply, an attempt to hide the obvious pain in her voice.

"Well, it must be interesting, considering you're the youngest non-family member in attendance," he remarks, smiling sadly.

'_If only you knew,'_ Tessa thinks.

Despite her thoughts, she cannot think of anything to say back.

'_Will this heartache never end? God, Will. It's like I'm here talking with you, almost daring myself to hope for it, yet at the same time knowing it is not you. It can never be you, again. It was different when I knew you walked the earth just as I did, more easier to bear. But now…'_

For a moment they gaze at Will's headstone, on which only his name is engraved. Then, Will's grandson asks a question that shocks Tessa so badly that she forgets the force of her suffering for a moment.

"You're Tessa, aren't you?"

Her eyes widening, she turns to stare at him.

Seeing her reaction confirms something for him, for he nods and continues, "Did you know my grandfather named my mother after you? He always told me- providing Grandmother wasn't in the room- that his favorite color was the stormy gray of the sea fog rolling in on the ocean. Then he'd get this sad, faraway look in his eye and leave us for a few minutes, lost in his own world."

The boy pauses, taking a moment to collect himself before going on. "His last word was your name, you know. 'Tessa.' My mother, who was with him, assumes he was addressing her. But he never called her that, almost as if he couldn't bear it. "

Tessa couldn't have responded if she tried.

Not caring or noticing her lack of response, Will's grandson whispers "You were it for him, Tessa. The only woman he's ever loved."

Before Tessa can form a reply, his mother- Theresa- calls tiredly "Timothy! Come along, doll. We're leaving."

With a shock, she realizes she and Timothy are the only people left in the cemetery.

"Goodbye then, I guess. I hope you got whatever you came here for, Tessa."

And then he's jogging across the lawn. He turns around and gives Tessa one last, unreadable look- a look that is just purely _Will, _that she has to laugh a bit.

Then she is the last one left, and she can't help it. She lets her tears fall freely as her despair rises up and engulfs her whole being. She lets herself succumb to the abyss she's afraid she'll never be able to climb out of. Before Tessa knows it, she is kneeling next to his headstone, her knees sinking into the soft grass with her head buried in her hands. She knows Will isn't buried here- his body would've been burned, but she can't help feeling she has a tie to him through this last piece of evidence- a simple slab of stone that proved Will Herondale, the only man she'll ever love, lived once.

"Oh God, Will," she sobs into her hands. "I miss you so much."

For awhile, Tessa stays like that, curled up at the foot of William Herondale's gravestone, helplessly calling out his name, over and over again. It can be said that these few moments were the darkest moments of Tessa Gray's life.

Finally, feeling as if she were one million years old, and not just one hundred, she begins to rise. She takes a single, red rose out, and gently lays it amid the whites. She presses her hand against her mouth, then places it on his headstone, one final goodbye.

"Until the next life, okay?" she whispers. "I'll wait for you, forever."

It's then that a single ray of sunshine breaks through the shadowy clouds. A wind rises up around her, blowing the vibrantly colored leaves in a harmonious melody that seems to sing to her, an unbidden reply. Tessa allows herself a moment to enjoy it, enjoy _him_, closing her eyes and smiling. She swears she feels a familiar hand on her cheek, the soft press of a kiss just above her ear.

'_Will'_ she breathes, finally opening her eyes. Its then that she sees him- 17 again- a transparent, ghostly figure. He is so beautiful it hurts, and it is this simple truth that has her grasping for him, clutching at him desperately as if he were a life vest and she were drowning. Smiling sadly at her, he shakes his head. She sees that he's beginning to fade away, and its unbelievable and horrible and sickening and she just can't handle it.

'_I love you,'_ he mouths, his bottle glass blue eyes the only tether between her and her life.

'_And I you,'_ the words form on her lips of their own accord, his fading figure becoming even harder to see through the blur of tears. However, their gazes remain locked on each other until he is completely gone.

Just as she is.


End file.
